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If we were to grab a cup of coffee somewhere… I would hope it would be a shop that’s a little bit funky. With couches and club chairs that are a little beat up, and hopefully a fireplace, and some old vintage tin signs on the walls.

I would probably have to order an herbal tea, although I would long for coffee in my cup, because although most coffee shops have non-dairy creamers now, very few have non-dairy, non-soy creamers.

We would pull up a couch or a chair, and gaze at the fire for a second. I’d pull my feet up onto the chair to get a little more cozy, take a deep breath, look you in the eyes and smile. Partly because I feel at home in coffee shops, and partly because I feel so comfortable with you.

I would tell you how we really should do this more often, and I would mean it with all my heart.

I would tell you about how I ate a handful of trail mix at work the other day, and mid dried kiwi, I realized it much have sugar in it. But I would also be sure to say that I was tempted to eat the garlic bread that came with my quinoa pasta yesterday, but resisted. Small victories, right?

I would tell you that I have been thinking so much about the future lately. Where to live, how to live, where my baby will go to school, how to make sure we’re laying the foundations for the kind of life we want to be in day to day, and that sometimes those thoughts are overwhelming.

I would tell you that this coming Thursday, is the last day until March 31st where both Mark and I are not working. That of the four weekends this next month, two weekends I work straight through, and the other two weekends, either he has a conference or I have a workshop. I would be clear in saying that I’m SO excited for these workshops… for the travel up to the bay area that they require, and for the workshop itself… but I would also admit that having that little time together worries me a little, and is not a pattern I want to set up.

I would tell you how we talk about how we want to be intentional with the time that we do have together. The couple hours after Mason goes to bed and before we fall into ours. And how sometimes, like last night, we do a great job working on a project together, talking, poking fun at each other, until we get too tired to do so anymore… but how a lot of the time, we’re so in need of a break by the end of the day that it’s blog reading and hulu watching, next to each other.

I would take another deep breath, and a sip of tea, and I’d ask about you. How your days are going, how you’re juggling everything. Are you excited about where you’re headed? Are you nervous? I would ask you if you ever get that little voice in your head trying to tell you that you need to reconsider, and what you do about it.

I’d tell you that Mason’s skin was started to smooth out. The baby softness was returning, even after a few days of these oils, and this diet. And then we gave him some milk over this weekend while I was at work, that I had pumped at the beginning of the month, before I started eating this way. And didn’t realize what we had done until his little cheeks started to roughen up again, and a rash spread across his chubby little legs. Blast!

But my eyes would light up as I tell you how excited I am, because that means that it is working! That he won’t have to just learn to live with it because food really does heal if you pay attention to what it is you’re eating.

And as I start to sparkle with possibility, I would tell you how I want to do everything. I want to live in Portland or Corvallis, and Kent and Brooklyn, and Venice and Tuscany, and maybe even in Providence Rhode Island… just to try it out. I would say that I want to write for a living, start an etsy shop, get a degree in Nutrition, do more yoga, knit more prolifically, read more books, give my baby all the time and attention he wants, spend more time cuddling with my husband like we did when we first started dating, take Ruby on long walks…. you would laugh at mean little as I almost start vibrating with excitement when I think of all these things. And then when I pause to take another breath… I would say that I’m trying to learn how to pace myself. To readjust and tame the nudge inside me that makes me feel like I should try to do all of these things at once. And pick a couple each day, or each moment. So that my time has a bit of focus.

After my rambling comes to a close… we would sit and sip for a few moments. Each thinking of our own string of possibilities.

And we would catch eyes again and smile.

And of course the time would run out too soon.

We would gather up our bags, I would probably take my tea to go, since I’m such a slow drinker. Cast a longing glance at the pastry display, and walk with you to the front. I’d give you a big hug, say, “it was good to see you”